Christian Poetry and Poems About Life, Love, and Mental Illness

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A Christian Poem About the Dangers of Being Selfish and Prideful

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” – Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

“Me, My, Mine”

Ignorance is expressed as “me, my, mine”,
ignoring in every facet of life the presence of the Divine.
Covering your eyes doesn’t make the sun not shine.
but pride is sure to make you stumble and walk around blind –

blind to the truth that we were made
in God’s image and goodness finds the keeper of His ways;
blind to the harsh reality that we are weak and must be saved
by the One death could not hold, who walked out of the grave.

In these times, it’s easy to get lost
in delusional thinking and high, proud thoughts,
in believing that joy can be found in the things we’ve got,
and in turning blessings into things we’ve “earned” and bought.

When I elevate myself higher than you,
I eliminate the need for compassion and to walk in your shoes.
When I look at the world through my selfish view,
everything is made for me, and there’s nothing forbidden for me to do.

A self-centered nature will never leave you complete.
Attitude is determined by the thoughts you eat.
A fat ego bumps into everyone you meet.
“Me, my, mine” are words of arrogance and deceit.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Beyond the Poetry

Pride and an inflated ego is the quickest way to destroy a relationship with God and anyone you come into contact with. Pride is the worst possible sin there is. Why? Because all other sins give you the chance for redemption. You know you’ve done something wrong and must ask for forgiveness. A prideful person, however, doesn’t see the need. Being prideful places you above anyone else and puts you in the place of God.

Selfishness is a byproduct of pride. When you believe you are more important than others, you deserve more than everyone else and should always be the first in line and get the best things. When you have a selfish mind, it’s impossible to appreciate the blessings that God has given you and be thankful. Nothing is ever going to be enough to keep you satisfied and someone is always going to have something you want.

I am guilty of pride and likely you are too. We all feel the need for more. The only real solution is turning to the cross to see that God sees us all the same as sinners in need of His mercy. Jesus didn’t come to help us out, but to save us and pay the debt that we owed. Because of Jesus, we can look at every single person and see the image of God, knowing that we are no better than them.

Humility is the beginning of wisdom because a prideful person is unable to learn from another. If you are not humble, it is unlikely you are going to listen to God’s Word either. You will make excuses and create your own rules. Using “me, my, or mine” is usually a good indicator that you are being self-centered. Following Jesus requires us to start using “he, she, and them” much more often than pronouns about ourselves.

“But I like the inconveniences.” “We don’t,” said the Controller. “We prefer to do things comfortably.” “But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.” “In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.” “All right then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.” “Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.” There was a long silence. “I claim them all,” said the Savage at last. Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. “You’re welcome,” he said.

-Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

A Post-Modern Portrait

Steel covered sky.
Gun-stock gray rays.
Metallic molten moon.

Where do you turn when the hovering dome
That covers your head is sucked void of joy
Like an eternal vacuum, gasping for breath?

Is this really all there is left –
Empty shells consisting of robotic movements,
Resembling humans, but without hearts beating in their chest?

Why are the pure at heart so easily discarded as trash,
But the deceivers received as gold?
What kind of world do we live in when all meaning has been lost –
A heirloom remembered, but regarded as ancient and old?

I’m afraid the heart seeks a treasure that doesn’t exist,
Washed out by the waves of progress
And swallowed by the deluded ideals of feminists.

Woman, do you want to know why there’s no longer
Knights in shinning armor walking the streets?
Because you have become accustomed to the darkness,
Mated with the dragon, and your pride refuses to admit you’re in need.

Independence and self-reliance have paved the death of the soul.
Romantics lay in anguish,
Lost in a world gone cold.

When the Self becomes king,
Selfishness reigns supreme.
Love is shackled and silenced When “ME” “MY”, and “MINE”
Are the passions and desires the heart screams.

And I am lost in this game.
I don’t know how to join in the delusions.
I have no desire to come to your miscalculated conclusions.

I don’t know how to still the warm heart beating in my chest.
I have no desire to walk like a lamb to the slaughter
And watch my soul shrivel like all the rest.

I have no desire to play by the rules
Of this revised edition of the Game of Life.
I’ll boldly wait in my alienated prism reflecting the light
Rather than sell my soul and vulnerability for the sake of safety
And step out into that dark night.

The extent of my weaknesses are revealed
Beneath the weight of uncertainty.
I am often a self-absorbed child,
Believing that time and even the world itself should stop for me.
My futile fury of feeble insecurity
Is shocking and pries open my eyes
To inner flaws I was blind to.
Every ounce of energy, every vision conceived,
Is spent looking at me.
My expectations of others come as extensions of myself –
Unrealistic and dotted with traces of perfectionism.
Resentful if they do not meet the mark I have set
And if their opinions do not match my own
Because obviously if they are not mine,
They are clearly wrong.
Selfishness seeps from the wounds
That loving another opens and inflicts.
Selfishness insists that I must control
Instead of allowing things to let live.
These defects of mine are amplified
Under the pressures of patience,
Consciously trying to tame the darkness inside,
But at the same time fed up with waiting.
Perhaps we are given circumstances
In which at first sight appear cruel and unnecessary
To stretch the muscles of our soul,
To open up the doors of the closets
We’ve been allowing our demons to hide within,
And to act as a catalyst for change.
Each day I’m learning more about this man
And the wrongs of his ways.
But patience and love has become a mirror
In which I’m able to see an accurate reflection of myself.
I can say with certainty that much of what I see
I do not like.
But every day is an opportunity.
Each moment is a new medium
In which I determine the image I am reflecting to the world.

“I’ll take a million dollars,” one man said.
“A million…that’s all?” said another.
“I’ll take a billion –
I’m absolutely starving.”

“I’ll take an innocent, young girl –
One that’s just turned 18.
I’ll put some experience in her, huh?”
He said, nudging the man sitting next to him.

“Forget that,” said the man next to him.
“She won’t even know what she’s doing.
Give me the one that’s open to anything
And has no shame.”

And the demands continued around the table.
“Serve me up some success.
I want to be the head of the organization
And take orders from no one.”

“Give me that red sports car
I’ve always wanted.
I just know I’ll finally be happy
Once I get it.”

“Serve me up a man
Who makes me feel special everyday,
Comes loaded with cash,
And willing to do whatever I say.”

“Build me a mansion so big
That I can parade around like a king.
Fill it with expensive toys
And butlers to fetch my every need.”

And as the men and women shouted their orders
From the lines of chairs at the table,
Desires became real
And appeared before them on their plates.

Each person sank their teeth
Into their meals
And sucked their cravings
Down to the bone – no crumbs remained.

“The Feast of Fools is complete.
Thank you all for coming.
Dinner will be served in the hall
Tomorrow, same as always.”

The people left the hall with bulging bellies,
But still weren’t full or satisfied.
Each silently reminded themselves
To ask for a larger meal tomorrow.

– Poem Written by Justin Farley

Behind the Poetry

It is easy to look at the danger of worldly desires and selfishness in the lives of people at the top. But the inspiration for this poem did not come from judging rich, selfish celebrities, but from judging my own self-centered, worldly desires. What is it in your life that you would ask for at the feast? There is nothing that you can devour that will bring you happiness or fill you up externally; it is only going to continue to leave you starving and hungry. Anytime we believe we can digest a worldly meal and think that it can fix us, we’re eating a feast for fools. Hopefully you enjoyed this poem.